


cool for the summer

by Rejoycing



Category: PRISTIN (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: F/M, bg nacheol, nacheol: Not Actually Siyeon's Parents, pristin still lives... in my heart, pristin? hss doesnt know them, siyeon graduated so techinally this isnt super late, this took me a year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 14:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17869340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rejoycing/pseuds/Rejoycing
Summary: Chan sits down next to her and takes her hand. She leans her head on his shoulder and watches as the sky gets darker and stars appear one by one.“Is it worth it?” He murmurs into her ear, his fingers playing with the tips of her hair.She breathes in the evening air, exhaling slowly and contently. “You’re always worth it.”





	cool for the summer

**Author's Note:**

> now olive has to finish her fic mwuhahahah
> 
> I'm really proud of this though so please enjoy <3

“Hey.”

Chan is standing there, wearing ripped jeans and hoodie—Siyeon feels the contrast, in her short shorts and long-sleeved black shirt.

Goose bumps spread over her legs when he looks at her.

“You’re cold,” he says, yanking off the hoodie and shoving it over her head before she can protest. “You should have dressed more weather appropriately, don’t you think?” He tuts stupidly, like he’s trying to imitate Jeonghan.

“It was warm today,” she manages to say. “And you’re cold too,” she points at his bare arms, also covered in goose bumps.

“Doesn’t matter.” He waves it off and slips his hand easily into hers.

Her hand is cold, but his is warm. Siyeon concentrates hard on her breathing just to make sure she doesn’t stop.

The dusk is turning to night, and she can see the sunset fading completely. It’s ten minutes until curfew—she’ll stay out just a little longer. (Nayoung will never know. She already went to bed.)

It’s just her and Chan out tonight. Siyeon’s heart beats a little wildly.

“You wanna go for a walk?” He asks, already pulling her along beside him.

She bridges the gap between them, snuggling into his side. Hopefully walking will warm her up.

They stop by a brick building, and Chan leans against it, holding her against him.

It’s just her and Chan.

Her heartbeat is wild, his is calm. His fingers lace through hers.

It’s dark now; she can just see his face by the light of the flashing sign in the store nearby.

He leans closer.

Palm against palm, forehead against forehead, she can feel his breath on her cheek—her phone rings.

She yanks it out of her pocket and shoves it to ear—it’s Seungcheol, she can’t just ignore him.

“Hey oppa, what’s up?” She asks, leaning against the wall next to Chan.

“Why didn’t anyone answer the phone?” He asks. Siyeon can hear yelling in the background. Seungkwan must’ve come over; he’s the only one who can get Jihoon riled up like that.

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t hear it, and Nayoung unnie’s already sleeping, if that’s who you’re trying to get a hold of.” Siyeon has a phone in her room, she can’t miss a call, and Seungcheol knows her curfew. She hopes he hasn’t figured out that she’s out yet.

Silence. Chan give her and look and whispers “Are you not supposed to be out?”

She ignores him.

“You _are_ at home, right?” Seungcheol asks.

“Yeah, yeah, I was playing some video games,” she says, and Chan squeezes her hand.

“I’ll walk you home,” he murmurs, because it’s obvious she’s not supposed to be out at this point.

“Siyeon, it’s dangerous out alone, you shouldn’t be out anyways—” Seungcheol sounds worried, a little angry, even.

“I’m not out alone,” she says, and freezes. She looks and Chan. He looks back at her. There’s a moment’s panic, and he breaks into a run, pulling her behind him in hopes to get her home before one of them gets into serious trouble.

“You what?”

“Oppa, it’s not like that,” she says, squeezing Chan’s hand. He pauses and reaches for her phone, but she moves away shaking her head.

“Oh my gosh, Siyeon, you aren’t—”

“No, no, oppa please, it’s not like that at all—” Chan wrestles her for the phone, but she refuses to let go. Somewhere in the confusion the speaker button in pressed, so they can both hear Seungcheol loud and clear.

“Let me explain to him,” Chan hisses, trying to loosen her grip.

“Where are you Siyeon, I’ll pick you up,” Seungcheol says, and she can hear the car keys jingling and the front door open.

“I’m fine, really, I can get home—” Chan wins the war.

“Hyung, it’s fine, really,” he says, backing away from Siyeon and she reaches up for the phone. “’I’ll walk her home, I didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to be out.”

“Chan!? Not you too, I can’t believe this.” Yes, he definitely sounds angry now.

“Hyung, you don’t understand!” Chan exclaims.

“You don’t, really!” Siyeon says, up on her tiptoes to reach the phone.

“Look, you guys are too young—” She hears a car door slamming shut. Chan face palms and shakes his head.

“Please. Not now, hyung,” he says.

“Where are you?”

Siyeon can’t deny him now. “Next to Jimin’s 24 hour convenience store,” she mutters, sitting down on the ground with her newly retrieved phone.

“Wait there,” Seungcheol says.

They do, and he arrives within a matter of minutes.

He’s mad.

“Get in,” he says shortly, and ignores their protests when he sticks Chan in front and Siyeon in the back.

“Oppa, it’s not what you think, we were just out for a walk,” she whines, leaning to be in the front portion of the car. “It’s nothing, really! We weren’t gonna go run off or anything, don’t be stupid!”

“Look, even if you weren’t, you still broke curfew, plus it’s dangerous out there at night—”

“You think I can’t take care of her?” Chan asks. “You think I can’t take care of myself, at least?” His voice gets louder.

The car seems suddenly much too small. Siyeon leans back and pretends she doesn’t exist.

“Look, Chan, I just care about you two, and…” He falters at the look on Chan’s face. “We’ll finish this conversation later,” he says, his tone implying no room for arguing.

Chan just laughs—he laughs, bitter, cold, and awful. “I don’t think you understand hyung,” he says. “This isn’t just about me anymore. There are things—people, I care about, and I don’t want to you take them away from me—I won’t let you take them away from me.”

He cares about her. Siyeon reaches around the edge of his seat and squeezes his hand.

“I’m not going to Chan, so we can finish this conversation _later_.”

The stop at Siyeon’s house and Seungcheol gets out of the car with her. Chan tries, but he’s locked in the car.

Seungcheol puts an arm around her shoulders and leads her up the walkway. “Siyeon, I’m not like I’m banning you from seeing him—it’s not like I even have the authority to do that—I just want you to be careful, okay? I care about you both, I… I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

He’s been hurt before, she knows. She also doesn’t care at this point; she’s too busy trying to not cry in front of him.

“I don’t care,” she chokes out, turning back to see Chan in the car. His head is against the dashboard, turned away so he’s not looking back at her. Siyeon’s heart literally aches for him.

“You’re only 17,” he whispers, stopping at the front door. “Relax a little bit; give it a year or two! I’ll support you a hundred percent, just wait, _please_.” He’s begging her.

Does it have to be between the two men she cares about most?

She walks in the door, closing it behind her and not looking at Seungcheol. “L-love you.”

He lets out a long slow breath. “Love you too.”

\-----

Chan’s voice comes over speaker an hour later, when Siyeon is lying on her bed, curled up in her pajamas and definitely not crying.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he murmurs. “I got really mad, I’m afraid I scared you or something, I… I don’t know.”

She lays the phone on the pillow next to her head. “It’s okay,” she whispers, adjusting her head so she’s not lying on wet pillow soaked with tears. “I- I mean, are you okay? Cheol oppa was really mad—worried—whatever, you know what I mean.”

He sighs, and Siyeon grips her phone harder, like then she’ll actually be able to hug him.

“I’m fine. I just hope I didn’t… I mean like, I respect him, I’m not trying to—yeah.” He goes quiet.

If Seungcheol knows him well, she knows him better.

“He’s not too mad, I hope,” she says, finally.

“I don’t think so.”

There’s silence. Siyeon can practically see him, locked in his room so as not to be disturbed, lying down on his bed with the phone on his chest and staring at the ceiling.

“Back there…” She pauses, running her fingers in-between the sheets. “You were gonna kiss me, weren’t you?”

He sucks in a sudden breath, but replies quickly. “Is that so bad?” He murmurs. It sounds like he’s smirking, too.

Siyeon squeezes the blankets to death and doesn’t answer.

“Sorry if it was too soon, or something. J-just let me know if you aren’t comfortable or anything—”

“I don’t mind,” she whispers.

He shuts up.

\-----

As it turns out, Seungcheol actually covers for them—not completely, but he makes it sound harmless. Nayoung, effectively disappointed in Siyeon, tells her that she ought to show some maturity and the Chan should really know better.

Siyeon thanks her lucky stars she can still see him, even though Nayoung purses her lips and looks away when he enters the room.

Seungcheol just gives them looks—whether bad or good, Siyeon can’t tell.

Chan decides they should “be good” and “not stay out late,” so they hang out in the afternoons at the arcade or the park.

At the arcade they waste all their change away on dancing games—Chan is better than Siyeon ever imagined, but she doesn’t mind watching him beat her score. He gets her a stuffed cat from the claw machine and she names it after his friend just to watch him laugh.

At the park they watch a couple walk dogs together, and decide a puppy will be in order at some point—not that they’ve made plans that far in the future, of course. (Siyeon has. She wants a summer wedding, at least 3 kids—probably more—a house with window boxes full of flowers, and a certain Lee Chan.)

She holds his hand when no one is looking; telling him it’s more fun that way. In reality, she just doesn’t know how long she could hold it without forgetting to breathe. He wants to hold her hand more, he tells her, and teases her when she blushes.

Somedays she wakes up to a frustrated Nayoung drowning in flowers addressed to Siyeon. “I don’t see why I have to hold them all if they’re not for me,” she says, placing them in vases nonetheless.

“But if they were for you?” Siyeon watches Nayoung, holding a particularly nice lily.

Nayoung, obviously surprised, doesn’t answer.

Siyeon cherishes each flower.

\-----

Chan takes care to surprise her, even though she pesters him like mad.

“Siyeon.” Chan says, shaking her shoulder lightly.

Siyeon wakes from the spot where she was dozing on the grass. “Whazzat?”

He laughs softly at her confusion. “Come on, I want to show you something.” He puts out his hand to pull her up.

Siyeon lets herself be pulled up against his chest. He smells warm, like coffee. She stops for a moment to breathe it in before stepping back.

“Where are we going?”

His eyes twinkle slightly and he slips her arm through his. “You’ll see.”

They walk for a moment in silence. Siyeon glances up at him. “Any hints?” She asks teasingly, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“None. It is a s _ecret_ , after all.”

She adores his surprises.

“Okay, okay, I see how it is, Channie.”

He ruffles her hair slightly, laughing at her pout. “Be patient, okay?” His voice softens.

Siyeon wishes she could melt into it.

“Come on.” He gently places his hands over her eyes, and leads her up a staircase. “Watch your step, okay?”

He takes his hand away from her eyes. “Now look.”

They’re on top of a building. She looks out and—the whole world is open in front of her. All of earth below her, all of space above her, she can see it _all_.

She glances at her feet to make sure they’re on solid ground.

“Do you like it?’ He asks, suddenly sounding quiet and hopeful, like a small puppy. Chan, really, isn’t that much different from her.

She glances up at him. “I love it.”

“We should go home soon,” he says quickly, arms around her waist and head on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t get in trouble again because of me.”

Siyeon shakes her head. “I want to see the stars.”

He frowns. “Siyeon, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Whether you stay or not, I’m staying,” she says firmly, sitting down on the concrete rooftop. “I—I want to see this.”

He sits down next to her and takes her hand. She leans her head on his shoulder and watches as the sky gets darker and stars appear one by one.

“Is it worth it?” He murmurs into her ear, his fingers playing with the tips of her hair.

She breathes in the evening air, exhaling slowly and contently. “You’re always worth it.”

\-----

The next time she sees him is a week or two later, when summer is almost over. Days are hot and dry, and evenings are warm full of parties and barbeques while everyone tries to enjoy the last of their freedom.

“You wanna go for a ride?” Chan smirks at her, tossing the motorcycle’s keys in the air and catching them.

Siyeon just stares. “What—how—when—who—”

He puts his hand out. “It’s hyung’s. Come _on_ Siyeon, I just got my license!”

She takes his hand, and he leads her over to the motorcycle. “You took Cheol oppa’s motorcycle?!” She gasps, taken aback.

“He said I could ride it for a day.” He swings his leg over the side of the motorcycle and glances back at her. “You coming?”

She shouldn’t. She’s not grounded anymore—sneaking out to see the stars that night with Chan might not have been the best idea—but if she pulls another stunt like this, she won’t she him for the rest of her life. But… it’s tempting. _He’s_ tempting.

“’Course I’m coming,” She says, swinging herself on behind Chan and slipping her hands easily around his waist.

He passes her a helmet and puts one on himself. Siyeon finds herself wishing she could fully lean her head on his back.

The motorcycle starts up; rumbling beneath her and it begins to roll forward. She can almost taste freedom, just close enough that she has to stretch her fingertips, but just far enough that she can only brush it. But it’s there. Chan breathes out slowly, relaxing as he steps on the gas.

Suddenly, she can taste that freedom.

The drive starts with ice cream on the edge of town, the parlor Chan took her too when she broke her arm. He hugs her against his chest when she blushes thinking of it. Next, they drive along the small countryside to the next town over, where they dance in the plaza with the locals and make wishes in the fountain. Siyeon wishes that she could have more days like this with him. When she asks Chan what he wished, he presses a finger against her lips. Finally, they stop at the edge of that town, in front of a small ramen shop. These, Chan tells her, are always the tastiest places.

And then it’s dark.

They lean against the motorcycle—against each other—and stop to relax for a moment. There really isn’t much look at, besides the empty roadway, but Siyeon can hear the buzz of insects clearly. At home, all she can hear is traffic. It’s quiet here, like a safe place. She closes her eyes and just sits there.

Finally, the time comes for them to move.

“I’ll be in trouble,” She states, even though she was from the moment she sat down behind Chan. Her phone has probably rung a hundred times, but she turned it off.

Chan sighs, grimacing slightly as though he was already thinking of how bad he’s going to get chewed out. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It- It was stupid of me to take you out so far.”

“Don’t be. It’s too late, anyways.” She’s resigned to her fate at this point. At least she had some fun, before she gets grounded for life.

He’s quiet for a second, but then looks at her suddenly, his eyes twinkling. “I have an idea.”

“It’s a bad idea, isn’t it,” she says, shoving him lightly on the arm but ultimately leaning onto it.

He runs his fingers through his hair and glances down the street. Her breath catches as she watches him. After a long pause, he glances back at her.

“What time would we get back if we left now?” He asks her at last, leaning back onto the motorcycle.

“Late. Like, early late. Maybe 3 am.” She’s tired.

He pulls her close, an arm around her waist as she leans against him. “Well, what do you think of finding a place to stay?” He pauses. “I mean… It’s probably a bad idea but- but I don’t know that we could get in any worse trouble at this point.”

“Just… for tonight?” Siyeon asks slowly. He’s warm, and she can hardly keep her eyes open.

His breath hitches for just a second. “Just for tonight.” He responds.

She breathes in deeply. The air tastes sticky and sweet, like strawberry ice cream—like summer. He’s the only thing holding her upright.

“I think… that… would be…. f-fine…” She murmurs into his jacket. It smells comforting, like him.

Her consciousness is slipping away, and she can feel Chan softly press his lips against her forehead.

She drops off to sleep.

\-----

Morning comes with a stream of light through the windows and a quiet knock against the wooden door. No alarm wakes her this time—hence why she’s slept in—but only the sound of voices.

 “Of course. Will that be all?”

“Yep, that’s all. Thanks so much!”

The door closes. Siyeon blinks. That was certainly not Nayoung’s voice.

“Hey.” Someone sits down next to her on the bed, and shakes her shoulder gently. “I got breakfast.”

This is not Nayoung. This is not Siyeon’s bed. This is not her bedroom, either. In fact, she doesn’t even think that it’s her house, or that it’s any place she’s ever been before. The only thing she recognizes is the voice.

She sits bolt upright, the sheets falling off her shoulders and into her lap. Next to her is Chan with a platter of French toast balanced on his knees, watching her with a mildly amused expression. “Don’t be alarmed. We’re only at a motel.”

She stares at him for a second, registering that _he_ is here, that _she_ is here, and that _they_ are here. Together. Nayoung with kill her.

“So… I’m not home?” She asks, though that much is obvious.

He smiles, and ruffles her hair affectionately—her bedhead, really. “No. You can’t ride a motorcycle while you’re asleep, unfortunately, so I carried you here.”

Siyeon looks down at her hands, but ultimately gives up on being embarrassed and jumps straight to the hunger. “How’s the food?” She asks. It doesn’t look that good, but she can almost taste the powdered sugar, so it can’t be that bad.

“Oh, this?” He picks up a piece of slightly soggy French toast. “It’s alright, I guess. Edible.” He laughs suddenly and takes a bite. “More edible than the eggs you made, that one time, anyways.”

She whacks him, giggling despite herself. “We don’t speak of those eggs, Chan. They never even existed.”

“Oooh.” He nods solemnly before breaking into a grin. “Forget I _ever_ said anything,” he says, winking at her.

Siyeon, in that moment, decides she loves him.

\-----

It takes a lot more courage than expected to go back home. Siyeon can only imagine how distraught Nayoung is, must less the frustration Seungcheol must be feeling.

Halfway home they stop again to looks over the river and stretch their legs.

“Losing your nerve?” Siyeon teases, reaching up to brush hair away from Chan’s forehead.

He glances at her, but then turns back to the river. He crosses his arms for a second, but then lets them hang while he shifts his weight from leg to leg continually—Siyeon would have to be a fool to think he wasn’t nervous. “Nah,” He says, preserving his pride.

She smiles a little sadly, but doesn’t purse it. “We should get home. I- I think I should get back to Nayoung…” She pauses, gazing up at Chan, trying to read him. “The sooner you give Cheol oppa his motorcycle back, the better.”

He nods slowly, finally turning to her. “It’s a shame,” he starts, holding her gaze steadily. “It’s a shame that we can’t—” He breaks off, shaking his head. Ah, never mind.” Tucking her hand into his arm, he leads her back to the motorcycle.

“A shame we can’t what?” Siyeon presses, pulling on her helmet.

“A shame we can’t think of better ways to be together,” he jokes, putting on his own helmet. “At least, a way we wouldn’t get in trouble—Oh I do wish you were an adult already, then we could do what we wanted. This is harmless, really, and neither of us are stupid.”

She puts her arms around him, squeezing him tight. “I’m willing to wait.”

\-----

They arrive home in the afternoon, when the sun is shining down and the back of Chan’s neck is so burnt its bright pink. Next time, Siyeon thinks, they’ll pack accordingly. (Next time, Siyeon thinks, might never come.)

They stand in front of Nayoung and Siyeon’s house, and Siyeon finds she has an uncomfortable feeling pressing against her chest. Her stomach, however, is filled with butterflies. Chan squeezes her hand, and opens the door without bothering to knock.

Nayoung is sitting down in the middle of the kitchen, curled over with her head in her hands. Seungcheol, who no doubt has been attending to her until now, looks up when she doesn’t, watching Chan and Siyeon enter the room.

The silence is so incredibly heavy that Siyeon wants to crumple. She and Chan watch Seungcheol, going alarmingly pale before green and finally red.

“What. Were. You. _Thinking_.” Seungcheol moves forward quickly, snatching the motorcycle’s keys from Chan’s palm and then retreating back to Nayoung’s side. He leans down to her, murmurs, “They’re home,” into her ear, and straightens back up.

Nayoung stifles sob in her hands.

“It’s my fault,” Chan says suddenly, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing when he remembers it’s sunburnt. “I convinced her to go. Shouldn’t have. We weren’t gonna say the night, but she can’t very well fall asleep on the back of your motorcycle, can she?” His sass is apparently still trying to get the better of him.

He’s going to say more, Siyeon can tell, but Seungcheol cuts him off. “You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care about _any_ of the excuses or explanations. I don’t. I just want to know what made you think that _such_ a ridiculously stupid idea was good. Why—” He stops suddenly, blinking rapidly and staring up at the ceiling.

Nayoung speaks quietly, a hand gripping Seungcheol’s forearm as she does so. “We… We were worried, you know.”

Silence. Chan let’s go of Siyeon’s hand and moves to the side. Seungcheol, gently moving away from Nayoung, strides over to Chan and puts a firm hand on his shoulder. “Come.”

Siyeon watches as Chan submits himself to being dragged away, a dull ache in her chest.

“Seungcheol?” She asks suddenly, and he turns back to look at her. “You get it, don’t you?”

“I—” He looks almost wistful for a second, but he turns away, hiding his face from Siyeon’s view. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous.”

\-----

School starts. Wind blows. Leaves fall. Fall comes, and Siyeon still misses him. Last time she saw him was August, when Seungcheol took him away. Nayoung said nothing, then, but her opinions were clear enough.

Siyeon misses the warm weather, the freedom, but mostly Chan. School keeps her busy, which Nayoung says is good—no time to pine away.

Months pass, and Siyeon gets even busier. Cheer practice is almost every day, not to mention school beforehand and homework afterwards.

She walks home from school to clear her head and breathe—something she hasn’t done since she went off with Chan.

The leaves on the sidewalk crunch under her shoe when she walks. She watches her feet, because the sidewalk is empty and there’s nothing else to watch. Her music plays quietly in the background, the sound melancholy like autumn itself.

She pauses to change the song. Her fingers flit across the phone’s screen, looking for another song to suit her mood. Satisfied with her choice of song, she puts her phone away and looks up—

“Hey.”

Chan is standing there, wearing ripped jeans and hoodie—Siyeon feels the contrast, in her short shorts and long-sleeved black shirt.

Goose bumps spread over her legs when he looks at her.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear your thoughts so please drop a comment! 
> 
> (Also, I apologize that nacheol didn't get resolved, but technically it's just a Chan/Siyeon fic :3)


End file.
